What You Do For Your Country
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: When Edward turns in his resignation, Grumman refuses. And thus he is thrown unceremoniously and entirely unprepared into the world of politics. Post-Promised Day AU
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I took a bit of a break from writing mostly due to a sudden influx of time-consuming work. I'm about to enter the last stretch before summer, but I thought I'd start this story just to see if anyone's interested. It's another post-Promised Day AU, with everything before Ed and Al returning to Resembool being cannon. That being said, I hope very much that you enjoy this fic!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Prologue**

As he took a direct, but easy-going route to the office, he felt a sort of giddiness slowly creeping in. Even though he had walked these halls countless times, everything about them seemed amazing and bright and eye-catching, because this was the last time he would see them. Ever.

Yes, Edward Elric was leaving this miserable place for good. No longer would he storm the corridors of Central Headquarters, or haunt the libraries for days to the point where people theorized he had barricaded himself within the walls of books. The flash of his red coat, already a memory from months passed, would never again draw the attention of his coworkers. Soon to be former coworkers.

At the age of eighteen, he was retiring. It seemed too good to be true, coming so abruptly after years of hard, long, unbearable labor and pain and guilt. But it was all over now. He had set out to accomplish something and accomplish it he had. His younger brother Alphonse was alive and whole again, a fact which he could proudly claim as his crowning and final achievement as an alchemist. That too, was something forever gone. It had taken some getting used to, to be sure, but he was far too grateful they were both alive to be upset over it.

So now, he made this last trip, alone, resignation firmly in—flesh—hand. And people still stared, for different reasons than the past. Some in absolute shock, some in tearful goodbye, and others with a sense of longing and envy at his escape. It seemed everyone knew somehow that he was taking his leave. And he didn't care, giving a grin or a cheery wave to any who happened to catch his eye.

His only regret perhaps was that he would finally have to stop by Mustang's office. He still owed the man 520 cenz, and while he would never dream of completely severing ties with the Colonel and his team, he doubted he'd be around anytime in the near future to pay up. So it was better to just take care of business now. At least Armstrong was out of town, mercifully stopping that embarrassing and probably bone-crushing farewell.

He stopped in front of the large oak door, pausing to speak to the soldier stationed outside of it to relate his reason for appointment. As the man stepped inside, Edward couldn't help but feel some small amount of trepidation. He knew, logically, that this was only a formality; he could no longer be a State Alchemist, so there was no need for him to be on the government payroll any longer. But still, behind that door was Führer, the man he needed to grant him his freedom. He would be a fool not to feel a little nervous.

"The Führer will see you now, sir," the soldier announced as he opened the door. Edward nodded in thanks and slipped past him into the large, rather grand room. The whole space had an air of careful taste, designed to make someone feel comfortable and yet inferior at the same time. There was a couch and chairs around a coffee table, no doubt for less formal gatherings. Paintings of famous generals or other historical figures he had never learned the names of were hung on every wall, as well as maps of the country. And of course, at the other end of the room was the large oak desk, behind which sat Grumman himself in a high-backed chair. Edward took a breath and strode forward, his footsteps still distinctly different from each other on the carpet.

"Good morning, sir," he gave his best salute upon reaching the desk. Grumman nodded once and indicated the visitor's chair with a smile. He sat, and instantly felt himself sink into the cushioned material. It made him uncomfortably…small.

"Edward," Grumman began, still smiling in welcome. "To what do I owe this pleasure? How is Alphonse?"

"Oh, he's doing well, sir," he supposed it was nice of the old man to ask after his brother. And it did make a nice transition into what he wanted to discuss. "Actually, he's part of the reason why I'm here. The hospital staff says that he's finally ready to make long distance trips. I'd like to take him back home, to Resembool."

"And you're requesting some vacation time? I'm sure you know by now that such a matter can be taken care of by your Commanding Officer," the Führer chuckled, but Edward's face fell a little. He thought he had gotten his point across.

"Uh, no sir. I'm- well, I'm bringing you my resignation," he brought his right arm up and held the papers out to Grumman. The man took them while reaching to perch his glasses on his nose, though he likely already knew the documents' contents.

"I see," the Führer murmured, and Edward found that all he could do was nod. After a time, the man looked up again, and though there was no hostility in his features, the smile was gone from his face. "Well, Edward, I'm afraid I can't accept."

"Huh?" Was the barely intelligible response the so-called prodigy came up with. He had imagined this conversation over and over again and there had not been one single scenario where Grumman had said no.

"That's right," the older man replied, already setting aside the forms as if they had been dismissed.

"But sir," Edward had finally managed to reconnect his brain to his mouth, "I can't be a State Alchemist anymore, and as much as I appreciate all that the military has done for me, I signed up to help my brother. Now that he's back to normal, I'd like to go back to a normal life, too." The Führer sighed and the smile was back, but this time he felt it was somehow pitying him.

"Edward, Edward, Edward. I see where you are coming from. Most of us have that idealistic fantasy world of the fresh air and green fields with the picket fence house. But we have all recognized it for what it is: a fantasy." Grumman stood, and Edward had to tilt his head back in order to meet the man's eyes. "As nice of an escape it makes in the mind, if someone like you were to try and actually live it, why, they'd go mad! Think for a minute, my young friend; what would you do with yourself? There's a reason retirement is for the elderly."

Grumman paced around the side of his desk, shaking his head as though amused by Edward's silly idea. "You would quickly become restless in such a sedentary environment. Trust me, I have known many a young man such as you. In my experience, the best thing to do is move on to the next adventure."

Edward turned his head to follow the man's movements. He had gone to stand by a bookshelf, his back turned as though preoccupied with studying the titles of the volumes. "Well, whether that is true, sir," he found himself already turning the words over in his mind, thinking about them, "it still doesn't change the fact that I have no alchemy. I'm of no use to the military whatsoever." There was no getting around that point.

"Hm…you raise an interesting question, Edward. What does a man do when a door has been closed to him?" Grumman had no idea how right that analogy was. The man turned, and with wink said, "He finds an open window." He clapped his hands together loudly in the silence, and Edward had to admit he jolted a little in his seat. "Alchemy is hardly your only talent, Edward. You have a brilliant mind; it would be a shame to let it go to waste."

"Thank you, sir," he mumbled, not sure what else to say.

"Truly a brilliant mind. Ideals. Determination. And the ability to make what you put that brilliant mind to happen. You are truly deserving of the title of the People's Hero."

He could feel himself grow red as he tried to stammer a denial. Really, that _Central Times_ headline had caused him nothing but embarrassment. But the Führer raised his hands to stop his protest.

"I'm not saying that you must accept that name, Edward. What I am asking is that you live up to that name once again." Edward could feel his eyebrows meet his hairline in confusion. "I know that you originally joined the State Alchemist program for your brother. But tell me, Edward, what was it that made you journey deep below Central, and take on a mightier force than had ever been seen even when your brother was believed to be dead?"

That gave him pause. He could tell that this single question was what would define the rest of this unexpected conversation. He could not afford to answer it wrong, even if he did not know what the end result would be, much less the one he wanted. "Well, all of the people of Amestris, they were counting on us—they needed us. I had to do what I could, I mean, someone had to. Sir?" Grumman was full out grinning now.

"I see," the man said again, nodding as though something had been confirmed. "So, you have a desire to help people. As much as you claim to be in it only for your brother, you truly care for the people of this fine nation." Somehow, Edward felt he had fallen into a trap. As Grumman advanced toward him, that feeling only grew. The old man perched on the corner of his desk, looming overhead on a higher level. "Edward, there are some problems that alchemy cannot fix, as I'm sure you know. What I don't think you know is how close this country is to being ripped apart."

"Sir?" He asked, bewildered and more than a bit startled.

"I am the new leader of Amestris, Edward. But I am old. What will happen when I retire? There are many generals and lower officers eagerly awaiting that day. When it comes, this country could easily split into factions and erupt in civil war more terrible than the world has ever seen. We have the technology, we have the forces, and we have nothing in place to stop it." Grumman was looking quite solemn now, and Edward couldn't help but feel an increasing dread. Suddenly that conversation he had had with Mustang about borrowing money seemed quite inadequate and wholly naïve.

"What do we do?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He was rewarded with another quick smile.

"We must attempt what has never been done before, Edward. This country needs change. This country needs reform. This country needs a constitution, one that preserves our strength in the world, but also ensures peace for all."

He couldn't help it. His jaw dropped.

"It is not as far-fetched as it seems, Edward. I have begun the preparations already. The first order of business is to bring together men and women from all around the country to write up this document. The most brilliant minds." He paused to offer another smile at Edward, though this one filled him with a growing fear.

"But they cannot be in the service of the military. In order for this to truly be a success in the eyes of the people, it cannot be connected with this regime. There would also be attempts to undermine the constitution or stop it altogether. There are many generals who will not like this at all, you understand." He could easily imagine.

"So I'm afraid I gave you a half-truth, my friend. I can accept your resignation as a State Alchemist." The Führer turned, took the papers and a pen, and signed with a flourish. When he handed them back, however, he followed with them, leaning forward so that Edward felt his personal space was being greatly invaded. "What I must request in return is your agreement to be a representative in the Constitutional Convention."

It wasn't until he was halfway out of the building that Edward Elric realized that he had achieved both everything and nothing that he had wanted.

**So that's what I have so far. There are ideas in my head, but I want to see what people think first and if you want more before I go ahead and write. This was quite a bit of fun, though.**

**A lot of Grumman's mannerisms/tactics I borrowed from a former US President, Lyndon Baines Johnson. Johnson had this knack for getting people to do things that they really didn't want to do, often by invading their personal space, or putting himself on a higher level than them. In fact, there was a couch in his office that he would have people sit on, a section of which was designed to sink really low when someone sat down. He would then pull up this big rocking chair and just rock back and forth real close while they sat with their knees practically up to their chest.**

**In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm really excited about this story. Thanks for taking the time to read it, and please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks very much for the positive response, everyone! I'm really happy that people are taking an interest already. I'm going to try and update regularly, but we'll see how that goes. Anyway, on with the chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter One**

"What do you mean you're not packing, Brother?" Alphonse had followed him into the study of their little apartment in Central, and even as he tried to lose himself in a book, Edward answered his younger brother.

"Well, I just had the thought—I mean, I still have a lot of things to do around here. I don't know, it would only be for a little while and—"

"Brother." Edward looked up into equally golden eyes, which were narrowed at him in suspicion. Alphonse could always tell when he was lying.

He sighed, placing the book on a shelf and pushing his bangs back with his other hand, a mark of his frustration. He didn't like having to tell Alphonse this, but he had agreed.

"Al…I can't give you all the details, but I can't leave. Yet, I mean. I've been put on a- a new mission." Instead of pacifying his brother like he had hoped, the younger Elric became more incensed, squaring his still bony shoulders while his mouth became a hard frown. Even though Alphonse no longer towered above him, he still felt slightly intimidated.

"A new mission? That's crazy and too dangerous for you, Brother! I know you can protect yourself, but this is the military. And why can't I know the details? Half of what I know about the military is things you weren't supposed to tell me!"

Well if the more even-tempered of the two was raising his voice, how could anyone expect Edward to keep quiet? "This is bigger than that, Al! It's not about stupid protocols or passwords or whatever garbage! This is bigger, than you or me. I- I can't refuse!" As he said it, something in Edward told him it was true. "I…I _have_ to do this."

Perhaps he was speaking more to himself than his brother. Alphonse seemed to think so, for he frowned disapprovingly once more, and then stormed from the room. Shortly afterward, he could hear the younger banging pots and pans, reminiscent of clanging footsteps, a habit he had developed whenever he was angry while cooking. Edward wondered if he would be welcome at dinner. With another sigh, wearier than the first, he dropped into his desk chair. As he ran a hand through his hair, Edward continued to think.

He had started this day wanting nothing more than to hand in his resignation, finish packing, and then getting in a few hours of sleep before catching an early train with Alphonse the next morning. Now, though, now…

It had been thrust upon him, this task, barely giving him enough time to think it through. He couldn't even discuss this with Alphonse, his most trusted confidant, because Grumman had forbidden it. No one could know what they were planning until it was too late to stop it. He didn't like not being able to tell his brother what he was doing, but he thought he could understand Grumman's caution.

This…proposal that Grumman had presented to him, this Constitutional Convention. Huh. He tried it again in his mind. Constitutional Convention. It sounded impressive. It sounded unimaginable. It sounded _big_. What he had said to Alphonse was true; what he was about to embark on was big, huger than anything he had ever been a part of. That sounded preposterous coming from him, but whatever would be decided at this Convention, would set the course for Amestris' future. He hoped it would be a bright one.

And that was when he knew he wasn't just being forced into it. Edward wanted to be a part of it, whatever it was. He wanted to be sure that they, whoever these other brilliant minds were, would be taking the country in the right direction. For all the people of Amestris. If that meant he had to stick around Central a little longer, he could do that. It would be a small price compared to other sacrifices he had made, and a small price for democracy.

Yes he was plunging headfirst into something he wasn't sure he could handle. Yes he was putting his own life second. Yes he was not going to have hardly any control in this situation. But Edward was not new to any of those obstacles.

"Are you hungry?" Alphonse was standing, looking more exasperated than anything, in the doorway, and Edward shook his head to clear his thoughts. Upon seeing the familiar gesture, his younger brother was unable to stop a little smile. Edward grinned back in return.

"Sure."

OoO

Edward was up early, no alarm needed, and went to rouse his brother from sleep. Alphonse didn't realize, becoming completely comatose whenever his head hit a pillow, but the elder Elric still did not rest easy at night. But Alphonse deserved uninterrupted slumber than anyone else after having gone without for so long.

He took a turn making breakfast as the other was still yawning and rubbing his eyes, and after they ate he got his brother bundled up for the train and out the door. Edward walked him to the station and bought the ticket, and then hoisted the suitcase up into the luggage rack despite Alphonse's protests that he didn't need help. He hopped off the train, but went around to Alphonse's window so they could speak.

"Are you really sure about this, Brother?" Alphonse wasn't angry or accusing any more, merely concerned.

"I really am, Al."

"I don't have to go to Resembool. I could stay, you know."

"The doctors said the environment would be better for you. Besides, you love Resembool and you've been looking forward to this for way too long to give it up for me. Anyway, I'm probably going to be really busy, you'd get bored."

"Well, what should I tell everyone? What should I tell Winry?"

That made him stop for a moment. What would Winry say when only the one of them returned? "Tell her the truth, I guess. I've taken on a new assignment."

"Do you want to say anything _else_ to her?" Alphonse asked with a strange emphasis on the word, accompanied with a little grin.

"Not really. I mean, that's about it, isn't it?" He was getting a little confused by his brother's actions, especially when Alphonse rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff. But the whistle blew before he could ask.

As the engine started up, Edward's brother reached out and clasped his hand. "Take care of yourself, Brother." This was the first time they would part since the time they had split up during the winter before the Promised Day. His was blinking rapidly as he tried not to think about it too much.

"I will. Don't worry about me, Al. I'll see you soon." The engine was really starting to go, and Alphonse released his hand as the train slowly rolled forward, picking up in speed as his brother leaned out the window and waved. And Edward stood on the platform and waved back, blinking all the while.

OoO

He kicked off his boots in the front room, and it seemed to echo as they hit off the wall. Everything felt empty about this apartment, now that it was his alone.

Before he could continue brooding, the shrill ringing of the telephone cut through, and Edward strode to the side table they kept it on, picking it up and plopping himself into the armchair nearby.

"Hello?"

"Edward?" He couldn't help but sit up a little straighter at Grumman's voice. The man had that sort of way about him.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm glad I caught you in. Well, I'm calling to say I have a few _friends_ of mine coming in to town tomorrow, and I'd like you to meet them."

"You would, sir?" He asked, hearing the meaning behind the older man's words. The other representatives were starting to arrive. He could feel the nervousness and excitement warring inside.

"Yes, how does ten on the dot sound to you?"

"That's fine, sir."

"Excellent! I knew I could count on you, Edward."

"Thank you, sir."

Tomorrow would begin the most important time of his life.

**I hate to cut it off there, but any other point would just be awkward. Okay, so next chapter we begin the real fun! I'm going to warn you guys: there will likely be a lot of OCs/underdeveloped background characters in this story as the representatives have to be people not in the military currently, and pretty much every adult in FMA is. If you have any suggestions they would be greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think, or things you want to be explored in this story. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well the response has been fairly overwhelming so far, everyone! I'm really grateful. Not only that, but you all have brilliant ideas. Let me know anything you think; I want this story to be yours as much as it is mine. Thanks so very much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Two**

He took a deep, steadying breath once again before the great oak doors and then nodded to the soldier, a sergeant by his uniform. The slightly older man opened the door and he stepped through, the door shutting solidly behind him.

Today Grumman and the guest he was entertaining were seated in the lounge area, Grumman in a high-backed armchair and the other man across from him. They both turned upon his entrance, and the contrast of expression could not have been greater; Grumman smiled widely at him while the unnamed man clearly seemed to be taking him in, sizing him up. A single dark eyebrow rose, as if both curious and sardonic at the same time.

"Edward, good of you to join us!" Grumman spoke with a jovial tone, gesturing to the couch adjacent. Edward strode forward and took the seat offered. He checked his pocket watch, a souvenir more than anything now, noticing it was exactly eight.

"Am I late, sir?" He tried not to fidget under the stranger's gaze. The man's gray eyes had an intensity to them, and the color matched his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed back from his face.

"Not at all, young man. Robert just likes to be early is all. Edward, this is one of my former colleagues, Robert Standon. Robert, I doubt very much I need to make this introduction."

"I read the papers," the other replied. His voice was smooth, but low, a steady advance.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Standon," he replied, trying not to turn red in embarrassment, and he leaned forward with his hand out. Standon raised that eyebrow again, but took the proffered appendage and shook it.

"Mr. Elric."

"I'm very glad you two have met. Robert here is from up north. Edward, I believe you made a visit to the north recently."

"Did you now?" Stanford asked with some interest, turning a little toward him.

"Yes, I spent a little under a week at Fort Briggs," he replied. Just as quickly as he had gained it, he lost the northerner's attention.

"Oh. Well, my area of the country is far more than just that—ice box. Pardon the term, Grumman." The man did not seem to be apologetic at all. Grumman was looking between the two of them with something like disappointment on his face, but before he could reply the sergeant opened the door.

"There are two men who have an appointment, Führer Grumman."

"Send them in, sergeant." Grumman brightened once again when the two men walked in.

If Edward had thought Standon and Grumman were different, these newcomers were complete opposites. The first was a somewhat burly man, with a large reddened face. His brown-blond hair was shaggy, hanging in clear blue eyes. The second man was practically swallowed in the first's shadow. Mousy brown hair, already showing the first signs of receding, and indistinct hazel eyes were the only color in a rather sallow complexion.

Grumman stood to shake both of their hands, and Edward felt that perhaps he should take the old man's lead. He stood as well, earning a grin from the first man as well as a firm shake. The second's hand rested limply in his own grip. Standon gave sigh, stood as though it was a chore, and completed the circle of greetings.

As they regained their seats, the two men taking the other available chairs, Grumman spoke again. "Well, I shall make the proper introductions. Edward, Robert, these gentleman are Darrin Venter and Simon Richards. Darrin, Simon, these are Robert Standon and Edward Elric."

"Very pleased to make—" Richards began, but was cut off from a low whistle made by Venter.

"My, my, Grumman, you've really pulled out the stops on this one. You're that kid genius, aren't you?" He favored Edward with another smile, though this one seemed more impressed than the first.

"The child prodigy, I think you mean," Richards said, looking at the larger man with some distaste. Edward couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that. _Child_? Kid was bad enough as it was.

"The very same, gentlemen," Grumman answered for him, and he had to bite his tongue from snapping at him for it. His was an adult now, for crying out loud, so what was the big deal?

But the door swung open then, and in strode a woman this time. Her hair had more gray in it than Standon's, but he thought he could detect some hints of brown from years past. Her jaw was firmly set, and he saw that the frown lines on her face outnumbered the laugh lines. The sergeant followed helplessly behind her, but she turned and leveled him with a cold stare.

"I require no announcement, sergeant. Find something more productive to do than be a bellhop." Edward winced and sent a shrug the sergeant's way, and the soldier turned and hurried from the room. Grumman, meanwhile, was beginning to rise.

"Patti, always—"

"Don't trouble yourself, Abram, I'm sitting right down," the woman cut him off brusquely, and Standon smirked a little at the change of events. Edward, meanwhile, was completely thrown as the woman took the empty space on the couch next to him. He hadn't even known Grumman had a first name.

"As you wish. Gentlemen, Patricia Relman. Patti, Darrin Venter, Robert Standon, Simon Richards, and the young man to your left is Edward Elric."

"Good to meet you. Now may we get down to business?"

"I could point out you were the last of us to arrive," Standon idly commented.

"Not all of us are retired," she quickly retorted, though not with very much venom. Venter gave a somewhat undignified snort, but quickly grew serious at the look Standon sent him. Richards, meanwhile, was looking expectantly at Grumman, as was Relman.

"You have an excellent point, my dear. Time is not to be wasted," Grumman interceded. "Now, I've gathered you here, as you all know, to discuss the next steps this country will take. Each of you, as well as others who will be arriving in the next few days, has proven themselves to be not just intelligent, but wise beyond years." The old man's gaze lingered on Edward the longest, as most of those gathered considered him with various levels of interest. He was clearly the youngest here, as even Venter could be placed somewhere within the range of mid-forties or fifties. "All of us agree that the current system is not adequate, and will self-destruct at some point if nothing is done."

"Clearly," Standon muttered. "It nearly did a little under two years ago, if not for Elric here."

"Really," he finally broke in, having had quite enough, "it wasn't just me. Führer Grumman had just as important of a role, and so did others." Like Mustang and the team. Mustang wouldn't be floundering if he were here in this position. He couldn't believe it, but he really wished the other man were here right now. "Look, it took me a few years, but I've realized you just can't go off half-cock on your own all the time. Not about the important things. This- this is important, and I'm willing to work with you. So what do we need to beat around the bush for?" There, at least he'd said it. He noticed Richards looking a little surprised at the outburst, while Standon was back to studying him carefully. Relman gave a little approving nod to his side.

"Well, you heard him, Grumman!" Venter said.

"Very well," said the old man. "The details. I will be holding a press conference tomorrow to announce the Convention. With the people aware and hopefully in support of it, not even the most stubborn general would try to shoot it down. The official meetings will commence at the start of next week. Due to the secrecy we have to operate on for now, I have had some trouble in securing a venue. But I have decided upon the old Capitol Hall."

"That shack?" Standon interrupted. Edward looked at him questioningly, but at least he wasn't the only one. Venter and Richards were equally confused.

Relman sighed. "Before this complex we're sitting in was built, the leaders of Amestris—then more a city than a country—would meet in Capitol Hall. It's probably the oldest structure in Central."

"It did seem fitting, Robert," Grumman said good-naturedly, but the other man only shook his head.

"I would like to ask how much you will be telling the press," Richards spoke up.

"I will tell them the purpose of this gathering, and some of the names of the representatives. Likely all of yours. However, this brings up an important point. It is imperative that you do not speak to the press, or anyone, about what is discussed in the meetings. Everyone should feel free to speak their minds, or we will never truly be able to write this Constitution. Agreed?" He looked at each of them in turn.

"That is satisfactory. I for one would like to remain anonymous in the public eye," Richards replied.

"You've got our word, Grumman," Venter said with another grin.

"Very well," said the Führer as he checked his watch. "I believe we have covered everything that needed to be. If you would all excuse me, I have a meeting with Major General Armstrong in twenty minutes."

They all seemed to realize what was meant; he did not want Major General Armstrong to know about this meeting. As Edward wasn't so keen on running into the female general, he was more than happy to take his leave. Because of this he was the first to the door, and he held it open for the others. Grumman afforded him one last smile before walking to his desk and Edward took that as his dismissal.

When he entered the hall, closing the door behind him, Richards was already shuffling around the corner out of sight. Venter was matching strides with Standon while trying to engage the older man in conversation, though not having much luck. Relman, however, was standing right in front of the sergeant's currently vacated desk.

"Good gracious—where has that man got off to with my things?" She muttered to no one in particular.

"He probably took them to be stored, no one knew how long the meeting would be," he replied and she turned to face him. "I could get them for you, if you'd like."

Relman considered him a moment, and then said, "Very well. I'll wait here for you."

He walked down the hall and took a left, travelling the familiar pathways until coming to stop in front of a storage room. He found a trunk with her name on a tag and a carpet bag embroidered with her initials. Edward took them and was starting back down the hall when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

"You know, I'd heard you were leaving, but that doesn't look like your luggage."

What were the odds? He turned toward his former Commanding Officer, noting the amused smirk but also the curiosity in the man's dark eyes.

"Oh, hey Colonel," he greeted, "I was getting these for someone, they're not mine."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "And your departure?"

"A rumor, that's all," he answered, though he supposed that was only half-true. "See you around," he finally said, not sure what else to do.

"Edward," Mustang said before he could go, "you wouldn't happen to know anything about any other rumors floating around here. About the Führer, perhaps?" Damn, Mustang sure was smart.

"Not really, I haven't been hanging around here enough to hear anything." He felt guilty lying to his former superior, but he couldn't spill about this. Before, the secrets Edward kept had been about himself and Alphonse. Now, he would know things about any number of people. It wouldn't be fair to them to share. No matter how much he trusted the other man.

"Well, alright then. I should be getting back to the office." He really needed to visit those guys soon. Mustang turned and walked away, and Edward left in the other direction.

"What took so long?" Relman asked, though not seeming that interested as she took the carpet bag from him.

"Just ran into someone I know," he told her. "I've got it," he told her as she reached for the trunk.

"Abram says you're from out east," she commented as they walked together.

"Yeah, I grew up in Resembool," he told her.

"Resembool. They got hit pretty bad during the Rebellion."

"Yeah. I remember once that the train was out for a month because the inbound tracks got bombed or something. You wouldn't know it to see it now, though. It's a quiet place."

"Hm," was her response. Then she said, "I'm from out that way, too. Not nearly as far as you, but I've been to that area."

"Have you?" He asked. They had reached the front doors now, and he thought to ask, "Where are you and the others staying while you're here, anyway?"

"Abram arranged hotel rooms or some such," she replied, "I believe this man is waiting to take me there." Relman gestured to the chauffer standing by an idling car. The man walked forward and took the trunk from him, and so he opened the back door of the car for her. As she stepped in, Relman said, "A word of advice, Mr. Elric. Lay low for a few days until the Convention. People are going to be in quite a stir over this."

"Alright then," he agreed, though not entirely liking the idea of being stuck in his apartment for days. It just seemed too big with Alphonse gone.

The chauffer had gotten settled in the driver's seat and started the car, so he stepped back as it pulled away from the curb. Then he began his walk home.

**So, what does everyone think? I'm sorry about the OC-overload. Some more familiar characters will begin popping up soon, and that isn't the last of Roy Mustang! As for Grumman's first name…I just picked one. I couldn't find it anywhere! So sorry if that's weird or anything, but I did sort of have a reason for it. Anyway, thanks for all your feedback and ideas already! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the lack of update, but finals week coupled with a sudden surge of guilt for not updating old stories sort of pulled my attention away. I also don't want to rush with this story; the more I think about it the more ideas I have. But anyway, thanks for all the reviews, alerts, favorites, and whatnot so far, it really means a lot! On with the fic!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Three**

It was childish. Shameful, really, what he was doing. For the first time since he had left, Edward was glad Alphonse was not around to witness this. His brother being reduced to acting like a cowardly child.

But, he supposed that when what seemed all the reporters, photographers, and even radio hosts of Central City and beyond were all camped outside his apartment, it was the natural reaction to curl up on the couch and try and wait for them to go away. He could practically hear the landlady's shrieking, but Edward felt he did partially deserve it. It wasn't fair to inconvenience the grumpy woman along with every other occupant of the apartment complex in such a way. Yet he had hardly had a say in the matter. If only he'd known what Grumman was going to do.

"_Only the best, those with the interests of the country as a whole, will be attending,_" the Führer's voice had crackled over the radio. "_Among them are doctors, town leaders, former dutiful soldiers, pioneers in all sorts of fields. I can confirm that one of the attendants is none other than Central City's own Edward Elric, the famous People's Hero._"

And that had sent the crowds in droves to the pavement outside his apartment. He should have known that his high profile would lead to something like this someday, that Relman's advice was quite accurate indeed. He wondered how the older woman and the rest were getting on. Per her request, and his own judgment, he hadn't been out of his home in days, and the spacious apartment was beginning to feel both empty and cramped at the same time. He was growing rather tired of the place, quite honestly, and was thinking of quitting it altogether. He was beginning to think of it more as his cage.

And then one of the bars was snapped in the form of a rapping at the window, the one in Alphonse's old room toward the back if he was hearing correctly. But that did not make any sense; the apartment was a good three or four stories high. Still, as the noise was not going away, Edward finally decided to just go and see if it was an overambitious journalist or a particularly stubborn bird.

It was neither. He opened the door and stood framed there, stunned, as Darrin Venter waved energetically at him from behind the window pane. A few seconds later Edward's supposedly brilliant brain caught up with his eyes and he walked over, unlocking and opening the window.

"It's a good thing you came, I was beginning to think you'd already flown the coop by yourself," Venter immediately said. No hello, no explanation of how he got there, or why. Just that.

"Uh, Mr. Venter," Edward cleared his throat awkwardly when the older blanched at the title. "How exactly did you get all the way up to this window?" Yet another reason to move out: serious security issues.

"Oh, I climbed," the man replied easily. "Just had to map it out, figure out all the footholds, it wasn't so bad. I'm standing on one right now, actually." The man grinned and Edward heard his foot stomp whatever brickwork was supporting him.

"Maybe you should- come in," he managed, standing back and allowing the other to pull himself through. He let Venter catch his breath after the effort, and then started on him.

"Why did you do this?"

"Ah, well I figured after Grumman's little bombshell about the "People's Hero" you'd be stuck he with nothing to do. Figured that'd get boring pretty fast, so I thought I'd spring you."

"Seriously?" It seemed odd to him that this practically stranger would go so out of his way to help him.

"That and, you're the only one I know that's from here, and I need someone to show me around, you know?" There was the catch. You help me, I help you. Of course. "Know any good places for a drink?"

"I'm eighteen," he reminded the other man.

"So?" Venter outright laughed. "If you've never had a beer, then I'm a five-star general. Let's go, Hero."

OoO

Shortly they were sequestered in a little corner booth in a pub Edward and Alphonse had used to visit. Any time Alphonse reached a milestone in the recovery process, they would each have a drink. Sitting now across from Venter was a little odd, but it had been the first place the young former alchemist had thought of, so he was stuck with it now.

Edward watched Venter down his glass in a few gulps while he himself prodded at the ice, still transfixed by the icy feeling transferring to his fingertips. Sometimes, when he had come here with Alphonse, the two had just sat, absorbing that they could simply _feel_ the atmosphere and not even consuming their drinks. The little smile that passed over his face was dropped when Venter called to the barmaid for another glass.

It occurred to him then how odd it was sitting here with a practical stranger with a few beers. Come to think of it, Edward hardly knew anything about the other representatives, while they knew plenty about him.

"So, uh, if you don't mind me asking, how did you meet Grumman anyway? What do you do?"

"Ah, that's a boring story at best," the man laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "He an' my old man were old war-buddies, they kept in touch. Course I never really got to know the man till I got voted Mayor."

Edward was almost thankful he hadn't taken a drink, for he surely would have spit it back out. "You're a Mayor?" He repeated incredulously. He had to admit, the man's first impression had been deceiving; he hadn't been thinking very highly of Darrin Venter, but now he wasn't sure. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to be making assumptions so soon.

"Yeah, it's not such a big deal, though. I run the biggest store in the town, have the steadiest income, most educated out of anybody there."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," Venter puffed himself up, raising his near-empty glass in almost a toast to himself. "Made it all the way through the local school. Graduated at eighteen and never sat scribbling at homework since. That might seem like nothing to a scientist like you, but where I'm from it's something to be proud of."

Edward couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "Are you kidding? I dropped out of elementary school. I was a prodigy, not a scholar."

Venter stared openly for a good minute, and then suddenly broke into a loud guffaw. "Another round!"

OoO

He ended up walking—guiding—Venter back to the rather fine hotel the representatives were staying at. Edward tried not to grimace, but the stench of alcohol the older man exuded with every breath was almost overwhelming. Fortunately he was met at the steps by a young man, the bellhop. Good, let someone who was actually getting paid do the work so he could retreat to his empty apartment in peace.

"Here, sir, I can handle it," the other man, probably his age really, said, winding one of the Mayor's arms over his shoulders.

"Be my guest," he replied, gladly shrugging out of the drunk man's grip.

"Hey—hey, Ed- Edoowerd," the other man mumbled, swaying a little at the change in position, and Edward reached out to help steady him. "I was- s'posed to tell ya somethin'. I think."

"You think?"

"I can't 'member it, though."

Edward shrugged helplessly at the bellhop. "Well, uh, goodnight then, Venter."

"Night, Hero," the other man said, staggering with the bellhop through the door. Edward shook his head, amused by the older man's actions, and then turned to head back to his apartment building. It was a long walk, and he was travelling mostly on autopilot, so it was hardly surprising that it took him a few blocks to realize a car was following beside him at a crawl.

In fact it took an exasperated sigh and a, "Edward," to catch his attention.

"Woah! Uh, Colonel? What—?" He stumbled backwards a few steps, fortunately not bumping into anyone on the vacant sidewalk.

"I couldn't help but notice the company you were keeping this evening. Darrin Venter, Mayor of Seaton City."

"Uh, yeah. I—"

"I take it he's one of these 'representatives' Grumman is talking about? You couldn't possibly know him otherwise." Mustang was giving him that cool stare, the one that said he could see everything just by reading your face. And Edward had been told by multiple people on separate occasions that he was an open book.

He sighed, defeated. "Yeah," he mumbled, more to the pavement than his former superior officer.

"Edward, I don't know what exactly is going to happen at this Conference, but I'm concerned. For you." That caused him to snap his head back up to see the darker haired man. "You're barely an adult, and an amateur in politics. I don't know what Grumman was thinking when he brought you into this—actually I do know. He needed a name to drop, to get people excited. But that won't save you. Politics is a vicious arena, Edward. People will use you or remove you in order to get their way. Understood?"

The words stung, and the tone was familiar, akin to the reprimands he used to receive after a particularly wild mission. But they were as true now as they were then. "Yeah, I know."

"I want to help you, you know," the older man leaned forward a little, just barely out the window. "If you'd like I—"

"Oh, good evening, Edward, Colonel Mustang."

He imagined that his and the Colonel's faces looked equally comically surprised.

"Doctor Marcoh?" He blurted upon turning recognizing the scarred and weathered flesh, grotesquely tragic. Still, a pleasant smile graced the man's features.

"Good evening, Doctor," Mustang replied, far more eloquent as per usual. "What brings you to Central?"

"Oh, business. I'm staying with an old friend, though, and I was on my way back. Edward, would you mind accompanying an old man? Sorry to borrow him, Colonel." The man smiled again, but the gaze he directed at Mustang almost had an undertone of…dismissal?

"Of course, Doctor. Good night, you two." Edward wasn't sure of the reason, though he suspected it had to do with Mustang's regained eyesight, but the Colonel had absolute respect for the elderly doctor. With that farewell, the dark haired man restarted his car and drove off into the night.

Marcoh took a deep breath in, and then said, "Well, it really is a nice evening, isn't it? They'll be coming to an end soon, I expect."

Edward shrugged noncommittally and fell into step with the old man. He wasn't a huge fan of small talk, especially of the weather variety. Marcoh contented himself with humming absently under his breath, but Edward thought he saw the man glance at him once or twice in his peripheral vision. Finally, the doctor sighed.

"I'm sorry to say I lied earlier, Edward. I'm not really here on business, not of the usual kind."

Edward raised an eyebrow at the unexpected statement. "Oh?"

"No. You see, I've been asked to be one of these representatives as well." There was almost a hint of discomfort or upset coloring the man's voice, but that was nothing compared to what Edward was feeling. Shock, curiosity, and overall a huge sense of relief.

"Great!" He breathed, and the doctor looked at him in surprise. "I thought I wasn't going to know anybody at this thing. Like, it'd just be me and a bunch of Grumman's old buddies or family friends. But hey, this is good—"

"Yes I think so as well, Edward, but don't get too carried away. While I think we share many of the same goals, I will let you know now that despite the fact I do not wish to be roped into this, I am here and I will campaign hard for what I believe in. We could very well end up on opposite sides of an issue, arguing over something. That's the horrid thing about politics, it's just you alone in there; no matter what alliances you form, all you have to trust is yourself."

He almost wished he was back in the pub with Venter. Even if he supposedly couldn't trust the man, he was far more jovial than either of his alleged friends were being at the moment.

"But I do trust you, Doctor Marcoh. With my life." Hell, he'd had to rely on that trust more than once.

"I thank you for your confidence, Edward," the old man said, calmer than his previous impassioned speech. "But you must learn to keep a tight rein on that trust. Everyone has an ulterior motive; even our friend the Colonel."

Edward couldn't help his jaw dropping at that. Sure, Mustang was crafty, but—

"He's a good guy! Hell, he wants a democracy just as much as any of us—"

"Ssh, Edward. Yes, I know. He also wants a democracy with him in charge. I am not saying that is a bad thing," he quickly added, raising a hand to quell Edward's response. "But you must understand that he would use you to achieve that end. You would be his informant, so that he could know what our Conference was achieving."

"I'm not a snitch, I already promised I wouldn't say anything," he pointed out, since Marcoh had not been there for that initial meeting.

"And you are a man of your word, Edward," the doctor rewarded him with a real smile, stretching the countless lines on his face. He hoped it wasn't causing the man any pain. "Do not think less of the Colonel, Edward. He is merely trying to do what he thinks is best for Amestris, as are we all."

"Then how do we know who's right?" Marcoh paused, and Edward worried that he had perhaps asked yet another of his famously naïve, childish questions.

"I suppose that is why we are gathering all together as representatives from across the country to write up this great compromise we shall call a Constitution," the man finally said, as they turned the corner onto Edward's street. "We cannot get it wrong."

"Right. Uh, this is my building," he spoke, jerking a thumb in its direction.

"Quite a walk from Capitol Hall, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I was thinking of moving to a smaller building or something. My apartment's too big anyway." At least the reporters and the like had cleared out.

"That might be best. You'd be less likely to be followed home. Well, goodnight Edward, I shall see you in the morning." Marcoh turned to cross the street.

"Huh?" Had he missed a memo or something?

"The first meeting," the man looked back at him quizzically. "It's at ten tomorrow. Did no one tell you?"

"Uh…no?" _"I was- s'posed to tell ya somethin'."_ Oh.

The man cracked a grin. "Well I suppose it was extremely good luck that I met up with you this evening. Goodnight." This time he really did cross the street.

"Goodnight," Edward called after the doctor, and then turned to let himself into his building. He'd have a word with the landlady about moving out tomorrow afternoon. After the first meeting.

He wasn't so sure about all of this now.

**Sooooooo sorry for the long wait. But I had a severe case of stopping-in-the-middle-of-the-chapter-because-I-felt-lazy. No excuse for it. Then I randomly wrote the last two/three pages in a couple hours. Why can't I work at a regular pace like everybody else? Anyway, thanks so much for all the reviews, I love hearing from you guys. The enthusiasm is so palpable, I really hope I'm living up to your standards! And yay, Marcoh! I know a lot of you suggested him as a representative and I really liked the idea. He snuck into this chapter though, I had planned to introduce him in the next one. But oh well, there will be plenty of character introductions next chapter anyway. So thanks so much for reading, and please review!**


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